


Iron Man

by tahirire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, One Shot, One of My Favorites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-07
Updated: 2010-10-07
Packaged: 2017-10-26 07:28:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tahirire/pseuds/tahirire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a reason. Maybe this is it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Iron Man

It was dark in the compound, but that didn’t matter. Sam knew his way around. He flipped off the Charger’s lights before approaching the gate and waited while it swung open, his eyes adjusting to the distant glow of red bulbs.

The machine beneath him didn’t have the same sound as the Impala with its rumble and presence and grit. Instead, it reflected the night around him quietly. It blended in like a shadow. Rumble and presence and grit - spirit - those things belonged to Dean.

Darkness, silence, stealth - those were Sam’s.

The others moved around him as if they knew his secret. He counted them off one by one as he walked to Samuel’s quarters. Each one of them had heard his story, fought at his side, and some of them had even saved his life. But none of them knew his secret. It wasn’t theirs to know. They weren’t family.

“Sam.”

A warm hand clasped down on his shoulder, and he relaxed for a moment into the knowledge that he was safe; that they were alone.

The other man’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes when he met Sam’s gaze. He tightened his grip briefly before letting go to gesture to a chair in the corner.

Sam nodded his understanding. He knew better than most the gravity that knowledge could bring. He took his seat, staring at his fingers as they flexed into fists and back again.

“It’s getting worse,” Samuel observed.

Sam didn’t have to look at his grandfather to acknowledge the statement; the fact that he was back again so soon was affirmation enough.He nodded shortly anyway, as a courtesy.

There was a scraping of wood against wood and Samuel moved into Sam’s downcast view with a chair of his own. He spun it around backwards and straddled it, crossing his elbows on the back. The syringe tip glistened in his right hand, and Sam swallowed.

“Talk to me, kid,” he said.

Sam rolled his sleeve up past the crook of his arm and held the fist he’d made.“It aches. More than usual. More – places. You got a -?”

Samuel grunted, feeling in his pocket with his free hand before he handed Sam a thin strip of black rubber. Sam took it and wrapped it around his arm at the elbow, twisting the ends together before setting it with his teeth.

Samuel watched with something like caution in his eyes. “And?”

Sam leaned back in his chair and rested his head against the cool steel wall. “And the treatment isn’t –“

“It ain’t holdin’ you as long,” Samuel finished for him.

The icy sting of alcohol nipped at Sam’s arm. He took a deep breath and waited for the needle to bring swift torment and eventually, blessed relief.

There was a sigh, and the pain didn’t come. Sam frowned. “What?”

“I should stay this time. Just to make sure.”

"Yeah, fine. You get hammered and when I come around, we'll try to figure out which one of us is older."

Samuel didn’t take the bait. “Dean wouldn’t want you going through this alone, son.”

Sam looked up, not surprised to see Samuel holding the syringe at the ready, but shocked at the sadness in his face. Sam shook his head. His right hand was going numb from holding the fist so long, and his veins stood out enough that Samuel could probably hit his mark blind.

“You’re right, he wouldn’t,” Sam said flatly. “So it’s better if he doesn’t know.”

They had been over it countless times. Every time, it got harder to say no to Samuel’s request to bring Dean in, to let Dean know that Sam was alive. He was afraid that one day it would be too hard, that he’d break.

Sam said no to the Devil, but he might not be able to say no to Dean.

His grandfather’s hard eyes challenged him to come up with a new reason, but there was only one reason that mattered, only one reason that he was able to keep his resolve. For the moment, it was enough.

“Because when the time comes, somebody’s going to have to do it. And he promised me it would be him.”

Samuel laughed softly, readying the needle a second time.

“Stubborn. Just like your mother.”

The unspoken understanding settled Sam’s nerves, and Sam held the image of her firmly in his mind: her feather-light touch was on his arm as he fell into the flames.

 


End file.
